


The Mercenary's Treasure

by TonyGrayson



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyGrayson/pseuds/TonyGrayson
Summary: Jason's undercover work brings him to Slade Wilson's dinner table. This is something he would rather avoid, but he has to deal with it.He does everything he can to remain calm but everything turns out for worse when the young man in blue enters the room.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 85
Kudos: 331





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What? A multichapter story being posted before I finish the current one?
> 
> Well, there is a reason for it.  
> Please do read this so you may be warned.
> 
> This story is sort of a test. It is NOT a priority and it MAY take me a long time to update. 
> 
> The reason I started it is because I am currently unable to calmly sit down on my desk, in front of my computer, and continue writing my current work on the Marvel fic. It is temporary though. Still, I wanted to write something so much I decided to try and do it on my phone. As it happens, it is not completely impossible but it is hard for me to work on a well planned story. 
> 
> And that is how this is a test. I decided to just write what was on my mind without any planning whatsoever. I have a vague idea of what I want with this story. Things I want to make happen. But I do not have anything very concrete. No real guidelines. This may be a problem in the future but it also might work? I don't know. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy it if you decide to take a leap of faith with me on this one 💙

Jason never really cared about a criminal boss's lover, toy, pet, or whatever they are called. 

To his eyes, these people are also criminals. Unless they are clueless of their lover's business, which is rare but it does happen, or if they are being forced into the situation, they are accomplices. Even if they never pull a trigger, or sell a person themselves.

So, yeah, the maximum attention he gives these people is making sure they are also taken in when he shuts their partner’s operations and guarantees their incarceration. Sometimes he might even use them, get close to them, so he can get close to his main targets.

They are secondary.

There are some primary targets Jason admits he does not believe he will ever be able to take down. He will always try to, but he has little to no hope of succeeding in doing so. 

Today, he was sitting in front of one of them.

Slade Wilson, AKA Deathstroke, the Terminator.

Jason is working on an undercover job, to catch a human trafficker, and circumstances lead him to this very moment. He had never been this close to the infamous mercenary, without blows and bullets being exchanged at the same time. Today, they had just sit at the dining table at Slade's house, which is totally not his real house, and his ‘boss’ is now negotiating for Slade's help in protecting the next shipment. 

It is a situation Jason would like to avoid but here he is. 

Although the mercenary had never seen his face, Jason could not help but feel the man knows who he really is. He probably does not, but the single analytic eye roams too much in his direction, so the man must be at least suspicious.

All possible bad scenarios are being run in Jason’s mind. Escape routes were noted in his memory since he entered this estate. He tries not to look around too much, to avoid further suspicion from Slade’s part. 

A door opens behind him and he tenses. He cannot feel a threatening presence but the way Slade’s eye suddenly moves towards whomever entered the room makes the hair on Jason’s neck stand up. If this person is capable of stealing Slade's attention and making him tune out of his current business, then this person is of great importance. If he is someone that appeals to Slade’s good or bad side, he cannot tell since the old man’s poker face is still intact.

The footsteps are light but sure. A man's footwear, by the sound of it. Everyone around him look behind, more curious than alarmed. He looks too. 

He sees blue.

He had heard about it before. But he thought it to be only rumors. He never believed Slade to be a man who parades his lovers in front of clients, in front of people who might end up with a grudge towards him and take it on his partners. But now he is not so sure.

He cannot just understand why. Why would Slade let this group of lowlifes lay their eyes on this blue treasure? What did the young man in the tight-in-all-the-right-places black dress pants and the as-delicious royal blue dress shirt do to deserve to be in their insignificant presence. When he says insignificant, he means the group of gangsters he has infiltrated into. Not _himself_ per se, although such beauty does make him feel a little more humble. Now, whenever someone compliments him on his good looks, he will never not think about the jet black hair and bright blue eyes that he is currently staring to.

As the man slowly sashays along the side of the long table, Jason notices that everyone is as if hypnotized by him. The effect on them is so big Jason suspects this parade was planned and that maybe there was more to the young man that meets the eye. Sure, he is ‘decorated' as beautifully as any crime boss pretty mannequin, and sure, many of those pretty pets are presented to somehow show how wealthy and powerful the host is. ‘Have you seen my mansion, my million dollar car collection, my private jet, oh and this expensive beauty that would never turn their eyes to me were I not so powerful and rich, much less let me do anything I wish with them?’. Still, Jason does not take Slade for one of those people. Slade is, above all, a mercenary who gained his reputation for the work he did with his own hands. Sure he now runs his own business that employs more than just himself, but he never stopped being _the Terminator_. He does not need a walking work of art to make others jealous and feel lesser.

The young man is probably just playing the part. What for, exactly, Jason does not know. But he will not be caught unaware. No matter how enticing the view is.

When the man reaches Slade, the latter finally changes his expression. A small grin and a hint of lust in his eye as he puts his arm around the younger's waist is all he gives away. Jason cannot catch real affection from the act, not even a great show of possessiveness. Everything is screaming ‘just the newest toy, not important'. Of course Jason takes it as the opposite. So why is the other here? Is he not supposed to be here? Is he going against Slade’s wishes?

The young man bows down to whisper something on Slade’s ear. The gesture is slow and sensual, to put up a show in front of the guests. Jason almost does not notice the way Slade’s hand tightens his grip on his ‘lover’, and is not sure what makes him do that. If the subject of what was whispered to him, or the act the other is pulling.

Slade smiles, and so does the other man. Jason almost gasps at the fake but still bright and beautiful smile.

“Gentlemen, I believe our meeting as gone far too long,” Slade says, not even introducing the guy everyone is drooling over. 

“But we have been here just for about ten minutes,” his boss says, stupid enough to not hide his frustration, “we have just started and-”

“And we are not going to finish,” Slade says, not bothering to show any kind of aggressiveness in his tone, “you see, I have no intentions of dealing with an… _organization_ that cannot even take care of their internal affairs.”

“What do you mean?”

Fuck, what _does_ he mean? 

The young man’s eyes are roaming around Jason’s group and stop when they meet his own. 

“I know you have a spy in your little group,” Slade continues.

A slow blink. A slow and soft smile. A _warning_.

“In fact, you were careless enough to even bring them with you today, to my house.”

Jason carefully and silently pulls out the small gun hidden in his sleeve. The other hand worries to get another gadget.

“What’s the meaning of this? Who is this spy?” the boss almost shouted.

“If you want me to do all the work for you, I guess you will have to pay me for my services,” Slade lets a chuckle out with no real amusement. Perhaps just a bit, at the boss’s stupidity.

“I will pay you!” the other said, not getting the joke, “tell me how much!”

“You actually believe he was being serious?” Jason cannot help but say. He also needs the distraction, “Are you really that fucking stupid to think he will let any of us out of here alive? After you brought a spy to his _home_?”

The expression on the mob boss’s face would be hilarious if Jason was not in such a dangerous position. 

In a matter one or two seconds, guns were aimed, shots were fired and a smoke bomb exploded. 

Jason runs from the scene, hoping Deathstroke is too occupied dealing with his now former teammates. This went worse than he imagined it would. Did Slade really know from the beginning that he was undercover? Or was that information given to him by the guy impersonating as his lover? Whatever the truth, he can only be thankful that the guy warned him. He is not sure if on purpose or not, but that does not matter now.

A gunshot grazes his leg making him stumble and fall. He quickly recovers only to find the young man in front of him. Jason cannot believe the guy was able to get there so fast on those tight clothes.

“You are one of his mercenaries,” Jason concludes.

“Please, that makes me sound so impersonal. So unimportant,” the other gives an unamused laugh.

“You are so sure you can take me down you reveal that information. Was it you who told Slade I was the spy, back there? Did you then warn me about it?”

The other just grins.

“Take off your jacket,” he says.

“What?” Jason cannot help but get confused at the random order.

“If you want to escape, take off your jacket, and come at me.”

Jason hears voices coming to their direction. He has no reason to trust the man in front of him. But right now he does not have much choice. The other gives him the vibes that tell him he may not win against him. If Deathstroke joins the party, then he is dead, anyway. He has nothing to lose in trusting him. He takes off his dress coat and attacks.

A bullet goes through the coat before it hits the ground and another grazes his arm. The man dodges some of Jason’s punches until he purposely lets himself get hit. Jason’s gun fly away but another is conveniently presented to him when the other positions himself so Jason can grab it from his hip. Another smoke bomb Jason does not activate explodes and Jason manages to get away.

He runs in the darkness, following the path he previously learned in case something went wrong. A bike awaits him and he only hopes it is not too loud and he does not get followed.

A tracking device. Jason finally concludes that the guy told him to take off his jacket because Slade had put a tracking device in it. How did the man get access to such technology? 

And more importantly, who was that guy? Why did he help him? Who is he really to Slade?

Fuck. 

Jason cannot wait to get to B and ask him if he has any idea. He wants to know. He _needs_ to know. The man saved his life. And he is probably risking his own at this very moment. 

Jason has to be sure the man in blue is safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are curious, in this AU some tech is more advanced, some is pretty ancient.
> 
> And sorry for grammar/spelling/other mistakes. The editor on my phone is not as good as the one on my computer XD.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I know what I'm doing but I do hope you enjoy it as I much as I enjoyed to write this XD
> 
> 💙💙💙

“Why did you let the kid escape?" Dick hears Slade’s voice when he enters the house.

“He escaped. I didn’t _let_ him,” he lies.

“And how did he manage to go through _you_?”

“I underestimated him. The intel didn’t say he was an experienced kid. Not that I believe he is that good. Just that I really didn’t take his will to live that seriously and may have played a bit. I apologize for that mistake. Believe me when I say I feel humiliated by it.”

Slade gives a small grunt and approaches him, “You better be telling the truth. I am still not completely convinced, but I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt,” he says as he grabs Dick’s waist with one hand, pulling him into his chest, as the other grabs his hair from the back and forces him to look up at Slade in the eye, “I am going to trust you would not risk everything for a random punk.”

“I wouldn’t wait so many years just to do that,” Dick says truthfully. No matter how much it ashamed him, at this point he would let some ‘random punks’ die to avoid the alternative. He does not want to do it, but he has a weakness Slade explored from the day he put his hands on him. Dick will do anything to not let Slade’s threats turn into action.

“Exactly. So, was that kid just some random punk that got lucky? Or was he not random at all?”

“If I were to pick someone not random to bet everything on, it would be one I believed they could best you. Not a guy who ran away like he wanted mommy.”

“Who still bested you,” Slade does not fail to point out.

“He caught me unaware, because I wanted to have some fun. It was probably luck. I will _not_ let that happen again.”

“Be sure you don’t,” Slade puts an end to the subject, “Come, let’s go home.”

Yeah, let us go ‘home’. As if Dick have had a home for the last ten years. He is not even thinking about how Slade makes them hop from place to place to avoid others finding out their safe houses. Even if they lived in a permanent place, Dick would never feel it as his home. 

A decade was not enough to break his hope of regaining his freedom back, one day.

***

Slade decides to punish Dick while they are in bed.

The mercenary who is usually careful and, in a twisted way, caring, is now marking Dick’s hips with bruises, his neck with sharp bites and being overall rough enough that Dick knows he will be aching for a few days.

Dick, of course, lets him. He makes himself enjoy it just enough to take some pleasure from him but keeping in mind not to enjoy too much. Not today. Not when Slade is punishing him and he needs the man to believe he has learned his lesson. He does not come. Slade makes sure of it by not touching him nor letting him touch himself. 

As Slade finishes, he lays himself down and spoons Dick in a tight possessive grip that makes him let out a short hiss in pain since his body is already bruised. Dick is still hard and aching as he lets out a soft and wet gasp with the words “I’m sorry.”

This somewhat honest apology somehow convinces Slade, as the man proceeds to finish him off and get up to clean him as he usually does.

Dick falls asleep, relieved to know Slade is not mad anymore. There will be no more repercussions for what he did today.

He is safe, for now.

***

No matter what people might say, mornings are the easiest. Even though he was not a morning person, the lazy and slow sex is the best when he is still half awake, half dreaming and the arousal is high and in its peak. Since Slade is a morning person, Dick does not even have to do much, his hard to start up brain being an excuse to not to make an effort.

Sure, if he were to be in a ideal relationship, maybe he it would be different. Maybe he would love to make the effort himself. He does not know for sure, he has never been in one. This is surely not one. This is far from ideal. He cannot complain, though. He _was_ the one who started it, who told Slade he was willing, even if he really was not. He did it to avoid a great catastrophe, and he thought that maybe it would be just that time. Or from time to time, at most. Something casual. Something to help blow some steam. How was he to know Slade was actually waiting for the green light from his part? That he wanted more? He did not know, but he should have. He should have known better than to make such big move without thinking about the consequences. At the time, it was all he could come up with to stop Slade from doing something terrible. It is still not an excuse. He should have come up with something else. It is his fault and he hates he cannot blame Slade for it.

They are laying in bed, Dick's arm and leg splayed over Slade, his head on the older man’s shoulder. Moments like these are rare, Slade being one to get up right after, and making him follow so they can find something to do like… training. He has to make good use of the opportunity.

“Can I see him, today?” he asks without taking his head off Slade's shoulder, “It’s been a week and I miss him.”

A hum is all he gets and he does not insist. He has learned not to. The desire was shown. Now it is up to Slade to decide if he will indulge him or not. Asking too much will sound like begging, and there is only one occasion Slade likes him to beg, hating any other. It is not even a matter of it being beneath him. It is a matter of acknowledging that Slade has all the power and that if someone wants to him to change his mind, they have to present some good arguments. Begging is like appealing for Slade’s weak side to give in.

Slade shifts as a signal to get up and Dick obliges. It is time for the first shower of the day where he might get a chance to improve the older man’s mood. Seriously, the man is insatiable. There are many young men out there who wish they could have half of Slade’s build and a third of his stamina. Sure, it is mostly because of the serum that gives the mercenary basically super powers, but he imagines that Slade would still be a force to be reckoned with without it.

Dick knows better than to initiate the extra activity in the shower. He leaves himself open to it, but making a move first might be seen as an exchange for the favor he asked. 

Slade approves of this and they end up taking two showers.

***

“Richard!” the boy shouts as he flies more than runs towards Dick, performing a perfect somersault and landing in his arms for a tight hug.

“Hey, buddy! I missed you too!”

“Tt. Who says I missed you?” Damian says releasing him as if he got burned. Dick has to force himself not to react to the gesture. They are at the place’s main room with Slade nearby and his little brother usually avoids showing too much affection in front of the mercenary.

“Tell me about your week? How was school?”

“As boring as usual. I already know most of the things we learn there and there are even times I need to correct the uneducated teachers on some subjects. Seriously why do I have to go through it?”

Dick now has to pretend he is not sad by the words, “I thought it would be good for you. To have a chance at a somewhat normal childhood.”

“Tt. Childhood are for children. Can’t I at least go to a more advanced year?”

“I think that would defeat the purpose of normalcy. But if you feel that uncomfortable, an outsider even, then I guess we could find another way.”

Dick has done everything he could to keep Damian out of the business. Letting him be a child was something he insisted with Slade. Damian was Slade’s bargaining chip. But Dick made sure he was not just giving himself for the kid’s survival. He wants the kid to _live_.

“That would be much appreciated. On another matter, I also got my first hit just this night!” the boy says failing to hide a bit of excitement at the end.

“Excuse me?” No, “your first _hit_?” Oh no, no.

“Yes. I got a mission, a real one. Sure, I was not allowed to go alone, no matter how I tried to make them see I did not need any assistance, but in the end I took out the target myself. Everything went perfectly well. It was easy.” Damian let’s out a proud smirk.

Dick is furious. There have not been many times he got furious. Not when Slade tortured him, not when he was forced to train, to hurt, to kill. But he made a deal with the man, and the deal was that Damian was to be kept out of it.

He makes his way towards Slade, leaving a confused Damian behind him.

“You turned him into an assassin?” Dick snarls as he approaches the man.

“Careful there, I do not appreciate that tone from you,” Slade says calmly, not taking his eye off the tablet he is working on. Someone had brought a memory card with updated information on the business.

“You broke the deal.”

“I did no such thing. We agreed that your failures may have repercussions that can affect the kid. And yesterday you failed me.”

“I made a small mistake. You didn’t even cared much about the guy’s escape since you didn’t send anyone after him. This is way too big of a punishment for it.”

Slade puts the tablet on the wood table and looks directly to Dick this time, “I decide what is or not the ideal punishment. And I although I believe you regret what you did, I am still not convinced you didn’t do it on purpose,” he reaches with his hand to cup Dick’s face in a false show of affection, “next time, think twice before saving someone I want dead, or I might give the kid another target,” he whispers in his ear.

Dick is almost paralyzed. He thought everything was past them. Hell, he never even thought that this would be the punishment if he were to be caught. He took a great risk in helping Red Hood. But the man was about to be discovered and he was in a precarious position. Dick could not let one of the few people who could get him and Damian out of Slade’s grasp be compromised.

“You have been training him,” he manages to say, “you prepared him for this.”

“Training was something that we agreed he could and should have. As for the skills to perform the job, take it as late punishment for the times you went against the deal in your first years. You should already know I always collect what I am owed.” 

Dick wants to scream. Wants to throw himself at the infuriating mercenary as claw his other eye out. 

Fuck.

He let Slade turn Damian into a killer. And it was all because of him. He thought that all the times he made a mistake he was the only one taking the punishment. They were mistakes. He never went against Slade. Except last night.

Now he is not so sure he should have nudged Red Hood. If he takes the bait and looks into their situation and Slade’s finds out… He might connects the dots. What will happen if he does? How will Damian suffer for it?

“I can go and find a way to finish the job, if that will convince you that I am telling the truth,” Dick does not know what he is saying.

“What?” Slade’s attention is back on the tablet.

“I can find and kill the guy that escaped the other day. I’ll even bring his body as proof,” no he will not. He cannot do that, can he? 

Slade narrows his eye.

Please refuse it.

“I will think about it,” is all he answers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but more is coming!

Jason is met with what he believes to be an expression of surprise from Bruce. 

He was not supposed to return so soon from his mission. But there is no mission anymore.

“What happened?” Bruce asks as he looks Jason up and down, taking in the mess he knows he looks like.

“I’ve been made,” he replies with a sigh, just noticing how tense he was since the incident, “I don’t know how, but Slade Wilson, with whom we ended meeting with for a contract, was informed that _I_ was undercover and decided to wipe us all out. And since that included Morello and his lieutenants, that means I cannot use the gang to get to Black Mask. We need to think of something else.”

“I’m glad you managed to escape,” Bruce says sincerely though he can only tell because he knows the man well.

“Yeah, about that…”

“What?” the man furrows his brows.

“I didn’t really escapes. More like someone let me escape.”

“Explain.”

Jason sighs again, wondering if he will be able to convince Bruce of his beliefs, “There was this young man, not much older than me, I think. He entered the room just before Slade decided to reveal the news about me, and he basically warned me that Slade knew.”

“How?”

Here goes nothing, “He fixed his gaze on me, then slowly blinked and smiled while Slade was talking about the spy in the group,” he says while mimicking the expressions.

Bruce furrows his brows even more.

“Yeah, at the time I didn’t know if it was on purpose, or why he did it if it was. But the truth is, it allowed me to prepare my weapons in time to react before they all started shooting at each other.”

Bruce lets out a pensive hum.

“Wait, there is more. The guy actually managed to catch me. He was the one who gave me these,” he shows the wounds where the bullets grazed him.

And just when Jason thinks the old man cannot furrow his brows even more, the man proves him wrong.

“It was just for show,” he hastens to say, “I think.”

Okay when did he lose the ability of explaining things calmly, cohesively and coherently?

He exhaled.

“He specifically gave me instructions so I could escape, including removing my coat that I believe it had a tracker. He even let me punch him on purpose.”

“A tracker, you say?”

“He didn’t say it was that but he implied that keeping the coat was not wise if I wanted to bail.”

“It could have been a bluff. Maybe they let you escape so you could come and tell your real partners and allies that Wilson is in the possession of high tech."

“Yeah, it could be. But it could also be that the guy was sincere and actually on our side. I would suggest you to talk with your pals in the Old Farts Society-"

“Justice League,” Bruce grunted.

“-whatever, to see if they know of anyone working undercover with Slade. If not, maybe we should look into it. The guy might have been calling for help.”

“We have a lot to do, Jason. We cannot waste too much time on a low possibility of one person being trapped under Wilson. And if I know the mercenary well enough, no one would be under his wing without being willing to kill. I would not be so hopeful that this young man is a good one.”

Oh no, Jason is not about to give up on the matter. Bruce can be a big hypocrite. The guy who will put himself at risk to save a scumbag criminal's life is now being hesitant about someone who could be good and forced to do terrible things? Bullshit.

“What if Slade is threatening him? Or someone close to him?”

“It’s no excuse for-"

“Cut the crap!” he shouts, “I know what you did when you lost your kids. How you barely stopped yourself from killing some of your suspects and even maimed some for life. So don’t judge someone that will do anything to protect someone dear to them.”

“Who told you that? When?”

“It was when I came back. They told me because you ended almost like that when I died. But that doesn’t matter now. Will, or will you not look into this? Because if you don’t, I will. Even if I have to do it alone.”

Bruce let out a resigned sigh but insisted, “Don’t assume right away that that is the reason the man let you escape.”

“I’m not assuming it to be true. I am assuming it is a possibility that, if true, we should act on it.”

They both stare at each other for a while, as if Bruce is trying to assess Jason’s seriousness about the matter.

“Very well,” the old man finally says, “I will try to know if he is working undercover, and try to find more about him, if that is not the case. I will not interfere if he _is_ working with someone from the League.”

“Deal,” Jason replies, finally relaxing. 

He felt relieved but, above all, proud. He convinced the bat of something. 

He was going to celebrate.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters on the same day, one right after the other!   
> Now let's see how long it will take me to post another 😂

Although some already associate Dick as being Slade’s more-than-just-a-soldier, truth is Slade rarely presents him as such. And when he does, when Dick’s role is to be the mercenary’s pretty little pet -like when they need that kind of distraction- Slade always treats him as if he is nothing more than that. The new toy for Slade to play with. 

Replaceable. 

Not important. 

Even then he only plays that role when Slade is already planning on taking out the witnesses. He is that paranoid. That someone might try to see Dick as a way to get to Slade. 

Dick knows he is important to Slade, and not only for his skills. There is an obsession. Dick is Slade’s possession and the man will go to many lengths to keep it so. He is also not under any illusion that the other man has real affection for him, as a person, as Dick. There is only the care one would have for an object they really cherish. He is just that, to Slade. An object. Very valuable, objectively or sentimentally, but still an object.

It is infuriating that Dick feels sad about it. About just being that to the older man. He does not know why he feels that way. Maybe it is Stockholm Syndrome, maybe it is because he hates the feeling of not being regarded has a person by those who are closest to him. He always craved for love, recognition, respect and pride. His parents always gave him those things in great quantities. Bruce not so much or, at least, not so obviously, but he still did. Slade? Love gave way to possession, recognition to a lack of punishment, respect is probably nonexistent, and pride is only for Slade himself. He was, after all, the man who trained him to be who he is today.

So, yeah. Maybe that is why he feels sad. Why he accepts Slade’s touches so eagerly. It is the only thing he yearns for that he gets from the man. Maybe it is not the way he initially wanted, but it is still a way he gets to enjoy. And that irritates him further. That he is so needy, that he gets so touch starved he lets himself be used like that and _enjoy_ it.

He is mad at himself for having a part of him that wants to be more in Slade's eye.

Dick feels a foreign hand sliding is lower back and he curses himself for being so distracted with nonsense that he failed to notice the unwelcome approach.

“Hello there, beauty,” a man Dick does not know the name says, “I am sure we have not been introduced and that should be a crime.”

He does not know the man’s name, so it means he is not important to the mission. The best thing to do is to get rid of the guy quickly so he can focus on his objective. And also avoid Slade taking notice of the unknown man’s lack of personal space. That would only paint a target on the guy’s temple.

“Good evening,” he says politely though his smile is obviously fake and shows discomfort, “I am afraid the reason for that is because I am not a man of real importance. Though I am here to talk to a _specific_ man of importance.”

“Oh? Could that _specific_ man of importance be, per any chance, me?”

Ugh. Dick hates when they insist. When they just do not know when to quit and start making complete fools of themselves.

“I am sorry. But that is not the case.”

“ _Could_ I somehow do something to be me?”

Dick starts to feel that maybe it would not be so bad for Slade to mark the man for dead. And right away he feels guilty for thinking that.

“No.” He simply says with a serious expression in his face and moves to leave. 

The man moves to grab his arm but Dick saw that coming and he avoids the man in such way he stumbles against another group of people to whom he has to apologize. Dick takes it as an opportunity to make his escape and head outside, through an empty large balcony.

He uses this time to relax for a short while. His target would probably take at least another half an hour to arrive.

So, what is his mission? 

Long story short: distract the guest of honor, steal some documents, leave. 

Longer version: enter the gala party -done-, mingle a bit -done-, wait for the target to come -in progress-, introduce himself to the man, seduce him -according to Slade, Dick is just his type- , take him to a room -that is currently at an heavily guarded area-, drug the man, explore the floor and search for the documents while the man is unconscious, return, wait for the man to wake up and pretend they had a hell of a private party, leave, give Slade the documents.

Simple and easy. No one has to die. The kind of mission Dick always hopes to do. He just does not understand why Slade had to come along. Is he here with another mission?

“Richard,” he hears a whisper calling.

He finds Damian partially hidden at a ledge above the balcony.

“Dami,” he murmurs back.

Damian jumps down skillfully, without wrinkling his tuxedo, nor messing up his hair.

“What are you doing here?” Dick asks. He keeps his voice low, though the noise from inside is loud enough for him not to worry about being overheard. The doors are also closed, making it impossible to see the outside from the inside. 

“Are you here on a mission, too?” he asks, trying to keep himself calm. The idea that Slade might have sent Damian to deal with another target is passing through his mind, together with a great anxiety that threatens his capability to breathe.

“Not sure. Wilson only said I had to come,” Damian answers, honestly.

That does not help Dick to calm down. Even if there is a chance that Slade will not order Damian to kill someone, the man would not order him to come to the party just because. There was a motive. A motive Dick is not in the knowing of.

“Listen, Richard,” Damian calls him to attention, a worried expression on his face, “I am sorry I told you about my contract the way I did. I know how much you worked to keep me out of the business.”

Dick is surprised. He never really talked with Damian about his work, about what Slade made him do to protect his little brother. Whenever they were together, he focused on the boy, and on keeping him a boy. Keeping him away from his reality. He knew that Damian was not stupid. The twelve-year-old was as sharp and intelligent has his father, and clearly with a greater ability of reading and dealing with other people’s emotions. He knew Damian was somehow aware of what his job is. Or at least suspected it. The revelation of his previous mission, told Dick that the kid knew way more than he believed. He knows all that. What surprised him was how Damian read him so well. How the child, by himself, realized he had to show a certain behavior in front of Slade, and how that hurt Dick. How he is now being so mature about it, and apologizing for it, even if it was not his fault. Damian, the little devil who would never admit being in the wrong, even when he is.

“I know it probably will not make much difference to you, since you still believe in the code Father taught you but believe me when I say that my target deserved his fate. He was not an innocent.”

“Thank you, Dami,” Dick says honestly, “Thank you for worrying. But you should not be worried about me. I am more worried about _you_ and how _you_ are feeling about this. You say the man deserved it. But would you kill that man if Slade did not order you to? Would you pass that judgment on him?”

Before Damian can reply, the louder sounds coming from inside the great mansion tell them the guest of honor has arrived.

“We will talk later,” Damian says, “we should probably go in.”

Dick does not want to leave the conversation like this. He wants to hear Damian’s answer. Still, his brother is right. He has to go inside and back to work. Failing to do his mission will only make things worse for Damian. In any case, Damian’s hesitation to reply tells him that he would, most likely, not receive an honest “no" as an answer.

“Yeah,” he only manages to says, hoping his voice does not tremble, “Yes, we should.”

As soon as they reenter the party, Dick goes straight to the source of the loud voices. He is acting as if he is curious to know who had arrived. He knows very well who that was.

As he gets closer, he hears the familiar sound of Slade’s voice. Why is the mercenary talking to his target? He told Dick he would not engage him, at all. Why the change of plan?

When Dick finally reaches them, when the last person that hid the target from his view is out of the way, he freezes.

That man is not his target. That man is his adoptive father. Damian’s father.

Bruce Wayne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you find some inconsistency throughout the story, please do tell me. I have no plan written down for this story and I am relying on my shitty memory to write it XD


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a very long time, I know. 
> 
> I am currently having a major writer's block. Possibly related to the burnout I had months ago. I think I have not fully recovered from it and I can hardly organize my thoughts nowadays. 
> 
> Still, I managed to write this chapter. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it, even if it is short  
> 💙💙💙

This has to be the hardest time Bruce ever had keeping his persona up.

When Jason told him about the young man, who had let him go instead of turning him to Slade, Bruce did not take it seriously. He thought the mercenary had taken in an apprentice who was probably just mad at Slade for some reason and helping Jason had been just an act of defiance. Or that it is indeed someone working undercover. Still, Slade being as meticulous as he is, it is not likely that he would miss the mole.

Now? Now Bruce is not so sure those are the only options. Right now, Jason’s theory that the young man is working for the mercenary against his will does not sound implausible. He never thought Slade would have any interest in taking someone in those circumstances. It seems too risky. You never know when they would turn against you. Bruce always believed Slade to be a careful man.

This night has proven that maybe he is wrong. But, right now he could not even begin to acknowledge that much less care about it. 

He had been talking with the mercenary, his Brucie persona fully on when the older man noticed someone in the crowd and signaled them to join them. Bruce had been surprised Slade was interested in talking with him in the first place but when he saw the young man in blue, who perfectly matched Jason’s description, he had to force himself to keep calm. To not let his mask fall. To keep smiling and looking aloof. He is still trying hard to do so.

“Have you met my business partner, Will Crowne?” Slade asks with a self-satisfied look.

“I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure,” he replies with his ‘Hi, nice to meet you! I will probably forget about you in a minute' fake smile. Or he tries to, as he shakes “Will's” hand.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Wayne,” the kid replies. His smile seems genuine, and oh so familiar. But there is something about it that tells Bruce that the kid is trying his best to also put on a façade. It is barely there and there would be no way Brucie Wayne would notice. 

But Bruce Wayne does notice and his suspicions, his _hopes_ , rise and he considers to believe them to be true. 

Could it be? Does he really want it to be? He is not sure. Not sure what he prefers. Because, if this man in front of him is his long-lost eldest son, then that means he has been under Slade’s claws all this time. That the tension in the boy’s smile means he remembers Bruce. That his eldest is trapped. That his youngest could be in the same situation.

His brain is trying to solve the puzzle in front of him and he only comes with more unknown variables and no answers.

Is this man Dick Grayson? If so, where is Damian? Was it Slade who kidnapped them a decade ago? Why? What did Slade want with a child and a baby? And why was he introducing Dick to him? Did he not know he was his father? Did he think he would not recognize him? Or did he get to Dick when he was older? God, was Damian even with them? Where is his little boy? What is Slade’s plan? Why is he doing this? Does he know he is Batman? Is he taunting him with his son? Did he somehow find about him after what happened with Jason? But why do this, anyway?

The questions in his head go on and on, sometimes going in circles, while the mercenary keeps talking about his fake business and how his fake business partner is invaluable to it. 

Meanwhile, the boy keeps as quiet as possible, passing as a man of few words. If Bruce is not being paranoid, _Dick_ is trying his best not to let himself be uncovered.

As they keep talking, Bruce gets more convinced he has found his son. And there is nothing he can do about it. Not as Brucie Wayne.

Brucie Wayne is a brainless billionaire who cares only about having a good time. He is a believer that happiness should belong in everbody’s lives and thus he is also a known philanthropist. Not that he decides how to help the ones in need. But he helps anyway. He is the perfect example of what _they_ want as an influential member of high society. Someone who does not meddle. Someone who can be influenced himself. Bruce Wayne had to make Brucie that way, so he could have a chance to truly make a difference in this messed up world.

Slade Wilson, on the other hand, has real influence. The mercenary is rumored to have the favor of the Reach. Something Bruce came to understand as most likely true when Jason told him about the tracker. Tech that requires communication with satellites belongs to the Reach. If Slade has it, then the Reach provided him with it. Sure, some short-range trackers can be made and used without the alien race’s knowledge. But that is risky and not that useful to track people on the run. 

In other words, Brucie Wayne is powerless and cannot go against Slade Wilson. If the man says the kid is William Crowne, then that is who the kid is. Brucie has no claim on the boy.

Bruce keeps studying Dick’s face. All the micro expressions, the unnoticeable trembles, the almost pleading eyes make him come to his preliminary conclusions. This is not about Brucie nor Bruce. This is about Dick. Slade does not know Bruce is Batman. Slade is showing Dick how helpless his situation is. 

Bruce is going to prove the mercenary wrong.

But first, he has to confirm the boy’s real identity. He has to keep a leveled head and not discard the possibility that this is _not_ really his son. He has to get a DNA sample. A hair, for example, if that is his real hair and not a wig. Prints could be helpful but also not decisive if the results are negative. It would not be the first time he would encounter someone with fake prints.

He keeps thinking of ways to get any kind of sample to test, without raising suspicion when the ultimate proof walks by them just a few meters away.

The child in the tuxedo has green eyes like Talia's, black hair like his own, his skin is a shade of brown between Talia's and his, and his face almost mirrors the one that still decorates the main room of the Wayne Manor. The face of a young Bruce Wayne with his parents.

This boy is Damian. He is sure of it.

This is the hardest time Bruce ever had keeping his persona up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon the possible typos and weirdly constructed sentences. I'm still writing on my phone and English is still not my mother language :P
> 
> I'm super happy people are linking this story! I'm loving your comments, please keep them coming. I may take a while to reply but I will try to do it. Sorry if I don't, though.
> 
> 💙

_Slade, you fucking bastard!_

This same thought has been repeating itself in Dick’s mind, over and over again. The reason behind the mercenary‘s little stunt is a mystery to him and he can only think about dreadful scenarios.

What the fuck is this all about? Is it still about him letting Red Hood escape? Did he find out the spy was Red Hood? It could not be that, right? He would be too close to the whole truth, if so. Oh God, is he too close? Did he finally find out Bruce Wayne is Batman? No! No.

Slade does not know Bruce Wayne is Batman. Slade does not know Dick was once Robin. Slade would not do this if he knew. That, or Dick has been wrong about the assumptions he has about the man, all this time.

Still…

Had this happened a week ago, Dick would probably get hopeful. 

He had never been allowed to go to Gotham- Slade not trusting him not to go to his father, or actually ask the city’s feared vigilante for help. So, he never risked it. Dick has a tracker in him and Slade would know the moment he set his feet into the city. 

Finding about Red Hood was pure luck. 

Dick had a mission in Blüdhaven, the closest he has ever been to Gotham after being taken by Slade, and it just happened that the vigilante was also there. Dick spotted him and followed him hoping to do exactly what Slade did not want him to. He did not get the chance to interact with the man without taking a huge risk. He did manage to have a quick glimpse of the young man’s face, when the vigilante thought himself out of prying eyes in what Dick thought to be a safe house. And it was enough. It was enough to see that it was the face of an adult version of the kid who had taken his place as Robin. The face of the one he secretly would spend too much time memorizing as if the picture would come to life if he stared long enough. The face of one who was supposedly dead. The kid Bruce adopted after his and Damian’s disappearance. The kid Dick was jealous of and thankful for. Jealous for taking his place as Bruce’s son, as Batman’s Robin. Thankful that he was there for his old man, to help him go through the loss of him and Damian.

Brucie Wayne had quickly accepted the idea he would never see his lost children again. He was publicly criticized, almost ostracized for it. For not doing much to find them when he had the means -meaning money. Who cared if the GCPD was the first to give up? To say that the odds were that Dick and Damian were dead. There was no ransom, several days have passed. But Bruce could very well had hired people to look for them, people thought. Slade, of course, took it as an opportunity to show Dick how little his father cared for him, in an attempt to give him a motive to accept Slade as his new guardian. Someone who would never give up on him. But Dick knew better. Dick knows better. Bruce did not abandon them. Not Bruce, the Batman. Having whoever took his children relax, thinking no one was after them, making them believe they did not need to go underground, would make the job easier for the vigilante. He still failed, though. He never found them. And though he probably never gave up on finding who took them, he must have given up on the idea that they were still alive. Dick bets that, until today, he never even suspected Slade was the culprit. Why would he? Why would one suspect the world’s deadliest assassin would kidnap a child and a baby and keep them? What use would someone like him find in them?

Fate, destiny, circumstances, coincidences, whatever, were a bitch and Slade did find potential in Dick, one day. And yes, in Dick Grayson, and not in Robin. All because Dick could not keep himself from kicking some bullies’ asses, even when these bullies were five grown men holding knives. Luckily, he was smart enough to move in a way that could be easily explained by his training at the circus. Luckily, he was smart enough not to really kick their asses but just distract them enough for the victim to escape, as well as he. He could have totally knocked out the thugs, but that would be really suspicious. Unluckily, Slade saw the whole affair and decided to look into him. He later decided Dick was the perfect candidate to be his apprentice. He had the moves, the flexibility, a dark past and a fool for a guardian. It probably did not take much for the mercenary to learn that Dick was quite attached to his little brother, the toddler being about the only person in his life who would not only openly accept Dick’s affections but also ask for them, demand them even. All he had to do was wait for an opportunity to get them both. He did not wait long.

Now, here they are.

And he does not even know exactly where that is. Slade rarely shares his plans about Dick and he can only try to read the man. A man with a resting poker face that is constantly resting. Still, some of his actions, some of his microexpressions make Dick wonder if the mercenary’s plans have been changing through the years. He is quite sure that Slade did not plan to be sleeping with his apprentice. Nor to be possessive, protective even (if not from himself then from others) of him.   
  
This mission, for example. It is about getting some documents, but if Dick is not careful, if he allows the man that will be his ticket to access the files to touch him, then someone may die after all. That if the other guy from before was not seen by Slade. If he was, then someone will die for sure. And it will still be Dick's fault for being distracted and letting the man come too close. He already has enough blood on his hands and more to come. All he can do and should be doing is avoid even more bloodshed.

Again, the voices start to raise and Dick notices that his target, Thaddeus Phillips, has finally arrived. Good. The sooner he finishes his mission, the sooner he leaves. Tonight has been overwhelming enough. For years he has been longing to see Bruce again, to talk to him, to be with him. But not like this. Bruce may have not recognized him -of course he did- but he sure must have seen Damian and the boy looks so much like his father, he could not miss it. Slade wants Bruce to know he owns them and show Dick that he is still powerless to do anything about it. But Bruce can and will do something. The problem is, he does not really know what is at stake here. He does not know the danger Damian is in. How he already broke his code and even felt justified for it. How Slade would punish them if he were to know, if Bruce tried and failed to get them back. 

Bruce does not know anything and right now Dick is in a dilemma. If he tries to contact Bruce, Slade might find out and punish him. If he does not, then Bruce will try to get to them, and if he fails, Slade will punish them. Still, Dick may feign ignorance about why Batman would know about them. He may even suggest that his father may have talked to the vigilante himself. They would still be punished, but the consequences would probably not be as dreadful.

Dick waits for Phillips and Bruce finish their talk before he approaches the man. He feels his father’s eyes burning on the back of his head while he makes fake acquaintances with the other man, while he catches the man’s attention will charming smiles and well-timed chuckles, while he seduces him so the other does not wish the younger man to leave his side. He does not falter, no matter how hard it is to have Bruce witness him work. And Slade must see how good he is being. How loyal he is.

Not even an hour later, Phillips whispers what Dick has been waiting to hear. He gives the man a sly smile and winks as approval. They are allowed to pass the guards to follow up the steps that lead to the upper floors so they can have their privacy. They pass through more guards before they reach their destination. The suite they get to is as big as the blueprints had shown, and as equipped as he imagined it would be. Dick pours them both a drink, adding an extra ingredient to Phillips’ while de man heads to the bedroom. Phillips drinks, Dick pretends to. As the man falls asleep, he searches his suit coat to get the overcomplicated key to the main vault which lock is being constantly changed and hard to pick. Once he opens the vault, all he will have to do is to is find the combination for the safe, which is also constantly changing, and get the documents Slade wants. 

  
Avoiding the guards is easy. Picking the lock of the main suite is a little more challenging, but doable. Opening the vault is quick, since he has the key, and the safe gives him some work but he had trained for it. Overall, easy-peasy. 

Exiting the vault to find Red Hood casually sitting on the sofa, arms and legs crossed, as if waiting for him is… unexpected.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random thought: I think my brain is close to quit, pack its bags and leave, like in the old cartoons.
> 
> For those who are reading The Wonders of Magic, I'm sorry. I'm begging my brain to stay. No really, I'm a bit blocked on a part of the next chapter on that story. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter 💙

  
“ _Red Hood, that is not the plan!_ ” Jason hears the replacement nagging through the comms.

  
“Well, I think the ‘plan' has changed a while back,” he says while silently approaching the ginormous mansion. If he hadn’t grown up at Wayne manor, he would be impressed. Still, he does not know why these families wish to reside in palaces where like eighty percent of the place is barely used. This place could house several families. Sure, it must be also filled with servants but they do not get to really use the mansion as their real home, do they? The extravagant empty rooms are for the sporadic guests.

“ _B said we should just observe and not engage_ ,” the brat insists.

“I’m observing! I’m just repositioning myself so I can observe better and up close.”

“ _Suit yourself. If B gets angry, I’ll not be around to hear the sermon._ ” 

“Don’t worry, I intend to do the same.”

“ _Good luck escaping him when he’s on disappointed-for-the-disobedience mode. You won’t-_ ", Jason cuts him off. It is for practical reasons since he is close to the window which lock he is about to pick and wants to concentrate. Of course, cutting off the replacement mid-sentence is also satisfying.

They have been monitoring the event, both from the outside and from the inside, Bruce having a hidden camera with him. They knew Wilson was going to be present so there was no way for Jason to attend the gala, but he could still be on the lookout for Blue, as Jason is calling the man in blue, and point him out. If he were to be there at all.

Jason has to admit that he did not think it would take no time and effort to find the man. He was given on a silver platter by Wilson. Naturally, it alarmed them all, because it was as if Wilson knew they are there for the young man. Or, at least, Jason is. Bruce was more interested in knowing what the mercenary is doing at such event that is not common for him to attend. That changed when the old man actually introduced Jason’s savior to B. 

They did not talk for long. Blue did not speak much, as if uninterested in keeping a conversation with Brucie Wayne. Does he know his identity? His connection to Jason? Or was he just not the least interested to talk to a brainless playboy? Whatever the reason, it did not seem that Blue tipped Wilson off so, that is good.

The strangest thing happened after Blue left their side. Jason is sure he saw a mini version of Bruce walking around the room. And by the replacement’s reaction, he was not the only one. If what he is thinking is true, then that changes everything. Is Blue their…

Better not rush to conclusions.

Bruce clearly tried to approach the kid. Jason was not sure it was the best idea and said so to the old man. It could be giving him away. In any case, the kid seemed to have spotted B and avoided the man himself. Too suspicious, indeed. 

In the meantime, Blue was entertaining a guest for long enough for them to suspect he is a target. As soon as they left the room and headed upstairs, B asked for Jason and Tim to keep an eye on Blue, while he kept his sight on Wilson.

And here is Jason, now. Entering a room close to the one Blue led his target to. His infrared scanner shows the older man still in the suite and Blue going along the corridor. Jason follows the same steps, not sure of what he will do. Should he stop Blue? Should he just let him do whatever he is there for? Should he go back and admit the replacement was right? Ha. No. He does not know what he is about to do, but that is not it, for sure.

In the end he sees himself in another suite, where a vault like door is open and a beautiful young man is inside stealing something useful for a mercenary so, he just decides to sit on the sofa and wait.

Again, he does not know what he is doing, but he wants to know. To know who this man is. To know if he is really worth it. To know if he has been right about him.

It did not take Blue long before he is stepping out of the vault, eyes going wide in surprise when he sees Jason, more precisely, Red Hood.

“Good evening,” Red Hood greets mockingly.

“What are you doing here?” Blue replies, changing his stance to one one might use to either fight or flight.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same,” He replies, “And what about the familiarity? Have we met?” he asks as to not to give away who he is, in case Blue does not know.

“Ouch that hurt,” the man says as he puts his hand on his chest with an obviously fake hurt tone to his voice, “I still have your jacket, washed and ironed with care and everything. I used my favorite softener and all.”

“Okay, now I know you know who I am. Care to explain how?” 

“Sorry, handsome, I’m on a tight schedule. I just don’t have the time,” Blue says with a flirty voice.

Jason is happy to be wearing a helmet and not show his blushing face for being called “handsome” by such beautiful man. Geez, he was reacting like a little kid.

“Then tell me this,” he says after clearing his throat, “Why did you help me the other day?”

“Would you believe it was because I find you cute and think it would be a waste for you to die?”

“Not even a bit,” Jason says, even though he would not mind Blue actually thought that of him.

“Pity. It is the only answer I am willing to give you. Now, if you excuse me, I need to attend on someone who is sound asleep before taking my leave.”

Blue begins to walk to the door when Jason intercepts him.

“Listen, I don’t wish to fight you, but I cannot let you ruin my mission,” Blue says in a serious tone, far from the flirtatious one he just used.

“No, you listen,” Red Hood says, Jason finally sure of what he wants from this exchange, “I am taking a huge risk trusting you. Trusting you are a good person who does not wish to the in the position you are in. I need to know if I am right. Because, if I am then I can help you. Not just me. You must know with whom I am associated with. Together we can help you out of your sit-"

“Forget it,” Blue interrupts, “I don’t care if you believe me, or not, if I say I’m not worth your time, but do believe me when I say that I don’t want your help. In fact, I wish you and your associates stay as far away from me as possible.”

“Your answer makes me believe I am right,” Jason concludes. 

“Did you not hear what I just said? I. Don’t. Care.”

“Is he threatening you with the life of someone you care about?” Jason says and Blue almost unnoticeably flinches, “We have delt with kind of situation before. We _can_ help.”

“It’s too dangerous, I won’t risk it,” Blue admits, “Tell him! Tell your boss not to come for us! Oh, he will want to, but he should not. If you want to help me, then tell him that.”

The confession is vague, but Jason is now sure his theory from before is correct.

“You know he is not going to give up on you, now that he knows you two are alive.”

Dick’s expression goes sad before he steels himself, “he is too late,” he says firmly but indecision shows on his face right away, “for me, at least.”

A short pause.

“But not for little D,” he whispers.

Jason is about to say he will save them both when Dick continues, “To save Damian you have to be smart. You cannot let _him_ suspect I had anything to do with it. Because of it, I will not be able to help you to get to him. If something goes wrong, _he_ has to believe it was your own initiative and that I was not on it, understand? He will destroy the boy otherwise. Tell him this. If he wants his son alive and well, do what I say.”

“Okay, but after getting Damian we will come fo-"

“After getting Damian, you will make sure he will not get his hands on him again, you understand? “

“That is obvious,” Jason replies almost offended.

“No, I mean it. It isn’t just about keeping Damian out of the spotlight. He can’t be the next Robin. He has to understand that.”

“I know my ‘boss’ - who is totally not my boss, by the way – has a tendency to turn his wards into birds, but I’m sure-this will not be the case."

Dick stays silent for a second, as if contemplating, “be smart about it. Seriously, do not mess it up.”

“I won’t,” Jason says promptly, “We won’t. And we will come for your too, after securing the kid.”

Dick gives Jason a sad smile, “You are a good man, Todd. But do not bother, I am far from saving.”

“I am not like the old man who believes everyone deserves a millionth chance,” Jason says with conviction, “But I am sure you do not tick any box in my list of scumbags who don’t deserve it. Or else we would not be having this conversation. And, um, you can call me Jason.”

Dick chuckles and goes for the door, “Right. Goodbye Jason. It was nice to talk to you, even for just this little bit, but I’m afraid we will not see each other again.” 

Dick exits the room and Jason runs after, finding it locked when he tries to open it.

He wants to insist and follow Dick, but he knows he should let him go, so he stops himself from picking the lock.

“ _So, we just found our long-lost brothers, tonight?_ ” Tim’s voice comes through the comms, having overridden Jason’s mute.

Fuck, he forgot about the kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos and comments make my brain agree to not to abandon me for the time being   
> 💙💙💙


End file.
